Phil Lester Saved Me
by evasage
Summary: Dan Howell is a sad lawyer. Phil Lester is a weatherman who brings sunshine wherever he goes. Dan has had a crush on him ever since he ambled into his office, looking for advice on a parking ticket. Now Phil has been hit by a car and he needs representation in court. Will Dan be able to overcome his anxiety to win both the case and the other man's heart?
1. Chapter 1

Dan Howell's alarm rang, eardrum-burstingly loud. He groaned and pulled the duvet over his head. He had been torn away from a particularly cosy dream; full of sunlight and the comforting sight of a particular pair of blue eyes. He dragged himself out of bed and checked his phone. He would have to get ready in the next 10 minutes, or else he would be late for work. He looked at his bed and bit his lip. A lazy pajama day had never seemed more tempting.

He could ring in sick, but the partner had warned him that he had exceeded the amount of 'mental health days' they could give him at the law firm without cutting his pay. With unpaid bills piling up on the kitchen counter, that was something he literally could not afford. And so he liberally coated his hair in dry shampoo, ran his GHD over the curls that had appeared overnight, wriggled into a suit and dashed out to catch the Tube. Before leaving, he placed his hand on his dream journal, then drew it away. No. Too dangerous.

On the Tube, he tried to make himself as small as possible and let his mind drift away. That adorable laugh, that smile…he closed his eyes and imagined what that pale skin would feel like against his own. The lady beside him coughed. Dan hurriedly crossed his legs, his face going tomato-coloured. He hurried out of the Tube a stop early, hoping he would never see her again as long as he lived.

Dan had become a little, shall we say, obsessed with a particular BBC weatherman. Watching Phil Lester on the 10 o'clock news had become Dan's favourite part of the day. He was just so _adorable-_ so enthusiastic about his job, always making horrendous puns (what are meteorologists afraid of? The atmos-fear!) and that laugh- oh god.

In another world, this would be perfectly fine. Being bisexual was not a big deal anymore. Having a crush on a minor celebrity was perfectly normal, and he wasn't the only person in the Phil Lester fandom. He hadn't been voted Buzzfeed's 'Cutest Weatherman' of the year for nothing. However, Phil was one of Dan's clients.

Phil had just wandered into the building one day with an overly extortionate parking ticket, asking for help. It wasn't too difficult a case, so the partner gave it to Dan. It hadn't been much; a consultation, a few emails back and forth, a morning in the district court; but it had been enough for Dan to fall head over heels in like with the other man.

Several months later, Dan was still kicking himself for not asking Phil out for coffee, getting his number, even saying 'hey, you're a weatherman, right? I've seen you on telly and you do a great job!' Something. ANYTHING. He had opened up a draft email to him several times and typing a message again and again before deleting it and putting his head in his hands.

When Dan reached his desk, before doing anything productive, he opened an incognito browser on his computer and pulled up Phil's twitter. He liked to leave it open in the background during his work day. That little 'ping' would cut through all the horrendous client emails and filing and quadruple-expresso brain haze and make him smile. Phil's tweets were a joy; cute selfies in the BBC studio, weather updates complete with puns and gaming references and, of course, pictures of kittens. Even the thought of Phil smiling as he tapped out a tweet made Dan feel warm and happy.

He looked at Phil's account and his stomach fell into his shoes. There was a picture of Phil in hospital, with a cast on all the way up to his thigh. The caption read; 'Leg will be out of action for 8-10 weeks! So angry (lion emoji) Hopefully will get everything sorted with my lawyer tomorrow!'

Dan blinked, unable to comprehend what he had just read. He scrolled down a few more hospital selfies until he reached a two tweets; 'Thank sweet bunny rabbits for the invention of morphine' and 'Just been in a hit-and-run! Hurts so bad…but I have the plate no.-I am onto you (eyes emoji)' The timestamps were all from yesterday afternoon.

Dan scrolled down until he reached tweets he had already read, then clicked the little 'x' and closed twitter. His hands were shaking as he opened his email. Surely Phil would get a different lawyer for this, a proper BBC damages lawyer-

 **From:** phillester

 **To:**

 **CC:** I need you, Danny boy!

From the first time they met, Phil had insisted on calling Dan by his first name. 'I don't like ,' he said. 'It makes you sound like a maths teacher or something.'

The lift pinged open, and a familiar laugh burst into the office. Dan jerked his head up and stared open-mouthed as Phil Lester, hobbled out on crutches onto the grey office carpet. Cat, one of Dan's co-workers, followed him out. She pointed to where Dan was sitting and Phil's eyes roamed over the cubicles, then met his, and he smiled. Dan waved back, stunned.

He felt nervous anxiety creeping up on him, threatening to choke him. He was bad enough just sitting at his desk on a regular day, hating everything. But an unexpected meeting with the man he had been obsessing over for months? He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it out. Just like the therapist (in the last of the two sessions he could afford) had told him to.

He stood up from his desk, and held out his hand. Phil looked at it with a bemused smile.

'Oh, sorry, left-handed, sorry,' Dan blustered, holding out his right hand.

'I –er, I would take you up on that handshake, but I'm afraid I'd probably fall over,' Phil laughed, looking down at his crutches. Cat shot Dan a withering look.

'Oh. My. God. I am sorry, I am so sorry, I-'

Cat interrupted him. 'Mr. Lester. I'll bring you along to one of our meeting rooms so you can discuss your case with Mr. Howell, shall I?'

She walked ahead, chatting to Phil, while Dan tried in vain to cool down his flaming face. That was probably definitely one of the biggest fails he had ever committed. Dan wanted to crawl into a hole, bury himself, and stay there forever. He knew without any doubt he would be having cringe-flashbacks of that moment several times a day for the rest of his life.

Cat leaned in and whispered to Dan as she closed the glass door of the meeting room; 'You better not fuck this one up, Dan, or _so help me…_ I am not saving your beanpole ass again,'

Dan gulped and turned around to face the blue-eyed man, beaming up at him from a seat at the head of the meeting table. Phil's crutches already had stickers of kittens all over them. Dan pushed down the urge to gather him into his arms and cuddle him, sat down and tried to look as serious as possible.

'Before we start,' Phil said, 'I have to tell you something super-cool.'

'Y-yes?' Dan stammered.

'I just noticed, we have the same hair, just in different directions! We're like hair twins!' He laughed, and Dan melted on the inside. 'Haha…hair twins.'


	2. Chapter 2

As Phil explained what had happened the day before, Dan could feel his heart breaking. Phil has a goofy smile plastered over his face the whole time, but Dan could tell that inside he was confused, angry and in considerable pain. He would shift in his chair every so often, trying to adjust the huge cast on his leg, discomfort etched across his features.

How could anyone just mow someone down in the street and keep going? Not even knowing whether the person they had hit had been permanently disabled, or worse, killed? Anger rose up like bile in Dan's throat.

'And so, this morning I went to the police and gave in the license plate, and they said they will be able to check the records and get a name- oh- are you alright, Dan?

Dan hadn't noticed that the anger had shown itself on his face in the form of a frown.

'Ye-yes, of course, sorry, continue-'

'They also said that they will collect the footage from the cameras where it happened, and I was with two of my friends at the time so I have witnesses.'

When Phil had said his name, an inexplicable feeling had coursed through Dan's body. Tingles all up his arms and down his neck. He wanted Phil to say it again. He wanted Phil to whisper it to him between kisses. God, he wanted Phil so much.

'And, well, that's it really!' Phil concluded.

'Well you certainly have a very strong case, Phi-uhhhh…Mr. Lester,'

'Please, call me Phil.'

'But I'm afraid I don't think I can represent you.'

'Huh?' Phil looked immediately disappointed.

'I only qualified last year, I've never done a personal injury case and I don't have a whole lot of experience…'

'That's okay. You said yourself I had a strong case so it shouldn't be too hard, right? One of my friends, PJ, is a barrister so he can do all the talking. I just want someone I know and trust there in the court beside me.'

Dan felt his heart skip about ten beats. If Phil kept smiling at him like that then he was certain he would soon be needing a defibrillator.

'Well I'm very flattered Mr-em- Phil, but-' Dan racked his brains to think of a reason not to take him on. _I have crippling anxiety and a massive crush on you, so I might have a panic attack in front of the whole court if anything goes wrong-_ No, he couldn't say that…

'No buts. I want you.' Phil extended his hand towards Dan. Dan wiped his sweaty one on his trousers and shook it.

Phil pulled himself up on his crutches shakily. 'Well, I'll get in touch with you if there's any developments on the police side of things.'

'Yes, it's important that we get a name as soon as possible.'

Phil stretched a crutch out and made for the door, then paused. 'Oh gosh, I should probably get your number, shouldn't I?'

'Ah-ah yes, t-that would be a g-reat idea,' Dan stammered. Phil handed Dan one of his crutches, then pulled a crumpled up bus ticket out of his pocket, along with an Argos pen. Dan took down the number in his shaky, terrible handwriting.

'Well, see you soon then, I hope!' Phil flashed another dazzling smile in his direction. Dan wondered whether his face showed the mushy feelings he felt inside every time Phil smiled at him. Maybe that was why Phil kept doing it. Or more likely, Phil just smiled at everyone because he was a kind, happy sort of person- everything that Dan wasn't.

Cat was hovering outside the door. 'I'll show you out.' She shot Dan a pointed look, then led Phil away. Dan felt curiously empty and disappointed as the other man loped off on his kitten-stickered crutches.

'Call me if you need anything!' The words were out of Dan's mouth before he could second-guess himself.

'Will do!'

The lift pinged closed. Dan ambled over to his cubicle, in a daze, then opened the incognito browser again. He looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, then typed a question into the search bar.

 _Is Phil Lester gay?_

No conclusive results came up; it seemed like if Phil had had any previous relationships, he wasn't the type to talk about them on the internet. However, Dan did find a slashfic concerning Phil and one of his fellow BBC news presenters, Huw Edwards. With its strange premise (Phil and Huw fucking in a BBC broom closet), abundance of typos and immediate smuttiness, the fic made for an oddly compelling read.

 _'_ _I wil now entere you from behind, you secksy weatherman,' Huw growled in his gravely Welsh accent._

 _'_ _Oh yas pls!' Phil replied, spreading his bare buttcheeks with his hand and preparing his anus for penetrayshun._

 _Huw lubed up his hefty member with spit and then pounded into the blue-eyed man's backside. Outside the beep…beep noise of the news 10 intro was audibel. Huw synked his thrusts to the music and Phil moaned in plesur._

The sound of his phone buzzing in his trouser pocket snapped Dan out of his reverie. He looked around guiltily and closed the web browser. The text was from an unknown number. He opened it.

'Hi there, Phil here! This is just a text so that you have my number. Talk to you soon, have a nice day!'

Dan put down his phone, placed his elbows on his desk and rested his head in his hands. He stayed like that for a while, until his delighted grin faded away and his feels calmed down. That was the thing about Phil. Most of Dan's life was a flat grey. He didn't even feel sad, he just felt, well, nothing. He felt miniscule and pointless in the context of an ever-expanding universe.

But whenever Dan was thinking about Phil, watching his weather show, talking to him, Dan felt…actually happy. Like if he could just try and make the day not hurt until he could curl up on the sofa and watch Phil Lester talking about the 10mm of rain that would fall tomorrow in West Yorkshire, everything would be okay.

Dan jumped up from his desk and wandered over to the bookshelf of law books in the corner of the office. He ran his fingers over the tomes and pulled out the lastest edition of 'Personal Injury and Non-Pecunary Loss Litigation' and began to leaf through it. For Phil Lester, Dan was going to pull together the most watertight case he had ever made.


	3. Chapter 3

**One week later**

After doing overtime at work to make up for a missing colleague, Dan returned to his apartment even later than usual. He threw his briefcase on the floor, undid his tie, and pulled off his suit jacket. It was approaching the end of May in London, and the weather had started to become warm and humid. He undid the buttons of his shirt and took it off, hanging it haphazardly on the chair sitting in the small hallway. Then he removed his shiny work shoes and trousers and cast them away as well.

Dan stood in front of the hall mirror and pushed back his sweaty fringe. He looked down at his body, clad only in a pair of Calvin Klein briefs. Then he placed a hand over a little pouch of flab that had grown over his stomach. When did that get there?

During the last few months his workload had gotten heavier and his anxiety worse, so going outside for a jog was no longer really an option (not that he had ever really been bothered to). However, this new development made him feel suddenly pudgy and even more awkward than before; 6 foot 3 inches of lumbering, lonely uselessness.

"Now, Dan, don't perpetuate thought patterns of negative self-image," he said in a high pitched voice, mocking his ex-therapist. He sighed, then turned away from the mirror.

He padded into the kitchen and poured himself some cereal. This was his usual supper for when he came home late and couldn't be arsed to properly nourish himself, which was most nights, really. He splashed some milk in over it and began to eat, placing a hand over his stomach again, feeling a little guilty.

He looked at his watch and realised it was after 10pm, so he walked over to his small lounge area and switched on the telly. He chuckled a little to himself as Huw Edwards appeared on screen, detailing the headlines of the day in his 'gravely Welsh axcent.'

The therapist had advised him to stop watching the news, as he had foolishly told her that it made him 'lose faith in the future of humanity' sometimes. But any appearance of Phil Lester on his TV screen immediately undid the mood-lowering effects of pictures of blood-soaked crime scenes and insipid human interest stories.

He had just spooned a particularly large helping of soggy Shreddies into his mouth when he heard his phone ring out in the hall. He put down the bowl and scrambled over to it, nearly slipping on the tiles in the process.

He answered the phone, his mouth still full of cereal. 'Hermerh?'

'Danny boy!' Phil's voice rang out on the other end. 'I have great news!'

Dan swallowed, then took a moment to compose himself. 'Ah-okay, what is it?'

'Oh gosh, I am so sorry I just realised how late it is! Damn, Phil, you are not supposed to be calling your lawyer after hours…I'm really sorry I'm just waiting around here in the studio for my turn-'

'That's no problem, Phil, er, what did you want to tell me?'

'Oh, just that we've found the guy who ran me over! There was a bit of trouble with locating him because he was actually driving a STOLEN CAR! Crazy, right? Well anyway, because of the number plate the police were all out to arrest this housewife from the East End, but thankfully they got the real guy at this petrol station outside of London, he was trying to rob it, anyway-'

'That's great, that will make our-I mean, -your case even stronger.'

'I know, right? Anyway, I have to go get ready now. How about we meet up tomorrow so you can explain me all the legal eagle stuff. Does 11 in the Starbucks in Shepherd's Bush sound okay?'

'T-that sounds perfect, Phil.'

'Alrighty, looking forward to it! See you then! Byeee!'

'See you…'

Dan just stood there in his lounge for a few moments, phone in hand, in his underwear, trying in vain to comprehend what had just happened. Knots of anxiety began to wravel themselves in his chest. He felt faint and his hands were clammy.

 _'Thank you Jackie. And now, over to Phil Lester, with this week's weather forecast. How are you, Phil?'_ the sensual voice of Huw Edwards came drifting out of the lounge. Dan's stomach did a somersault. He slid into the lounge in his socks and pretty much fell face first onto the sofa.

 _'I'm doing well, thank you, Huw, it's wonderful to be back in the studio.'_ And there was Phil, dressed in an adorable pin-striped suit jacket and purple tie. _'We might have a few hiccups today as it's more of a fore-CAST than a forecast,'_ the camera panned down to the bottom half of Phil, showing that he was seated in a high stool, the top of an adjusted trouser leg just covering his large cast _. 'But anyway, here we go!'_

The camera panned back up to Phil's smiling face. Dan felt tingles run across his skin.


	4. Chapter 4

_'Well, it's been yet another day of marked contrasts across the UK, f-i-ne sunny weather across northern areas, all my Manchester relatives are currently toasting themselves, so jealous! However, it has been anything but sunny in other parts of the country with flash flooding caused by thunderstorms rolling their way in across southern areas-'_

Dan gazed at the screen, entranced with a goofy smile plastered over his face. Phil stretched out his arm across the screen to indicate the large storm which was making its way over to England from France, and looked directly into the camera. The blue in his eyes sparkled, enhanced by the deep navy of the English Channel's digital representation. It was almost as if Phil was staring right at him.

' _Now all the meteorology crew in the BBC have their eyes pinned on this storm here, which I have taken the liberty to name 'Storm Phil,' hopefully that name will catch on-'_

Dan felt a twitch at his groin, and a familiar warmth. He looked down to see that his dick was half-hard inside his boxers. "Oh no," he thought. "Not this…not again."

 _'We think this storm will move along the English Channel, just flirting with the south coast…'_ Phil stopped for a moment and giggled, his face crinkling up adorably. _'I swear, Samantha, you put that one in just to make me laugh, er, a-nyway we will certainly be watching 'Storm Phil' very closely over the next few hours.'_

Dan slipped a hand into his boxers and began to stroke his hardening cock. He felt immediate relief, all the tension that he had built up inside himself during the week ebbing away.

 _'Elsewhere there will be a few scattered showers, with the Midlands being quite cool- you go, Midlands- but overall a fine night with temperatures in the mid-teens'_

Dan pulled his boxers down over his arse, exposing his now-full erection to the warm air of his flat. He gripped his thumb and forefinger around it tightly and picked up the pace. His whole body shivered with pleasure.

' _Some overnight showers will bring a wet start to some of the southwestern areas, the rain will tend to drift away through the morning though a few will form later on in the day. Most places, however will have a really lovely day tomorrow, so break out your suncream and sandcastle-shaped buckets-'_

As Dan continued masturbating, his eyes went a little hazy and blurry for a few moments. He blinked and focused on Phil again, his pale face a ray of sunshine in the centre of his shitty TV screen. He could hear what he was saying, but couldn't take it in, his brain was full of imaginings of kissing Phil, Phil's skin against his, Phil's hand on his dick, Phil inside him-oh god-

 _'There will be a few exceptions, unfortunately; some areas in Northern Scotland and the Highlands will experience some sharp showers- sorry about that guys- and cloud will drift down to areas in north-eastern England as well, pretty much killing off any possibility of improving the old suntan-'_

Dan had picked up the tempo, his wrist straining as he pumped his hand up and down. The lower part of his stomach was quivering and tingles were rushing all over his skin. He didn't know whether he would last much longer.

 _'A massive improvement in the southern counties tomorrow with temperatures reaching the early, even mid-twenties in some places-'_

Dan's legs twitched and he felt a desperate pressure building up in his pelvis. He gritted his teeth and wanked harder. He wanted- he NEEDED to come RIGHT NOW-oh god-

 _'Then all eyes to the north tomorrow night with a cold front heading its way southwards, as you might have heard this will mean-'_

Dan closed his eyes and felt himself nearing the edge. He slowed down for a few seconds, letting the soft sound of Phil's voice slowly guide him closer, and closer again.

Phil dropped his voice down to almost a whisper, speaking in a strangely seductive tone about how _'chillier temperatures in the north will be seen during the rest of the week, with the south perhaps scraping one more day of sunshine-'_

Dan was no longer able to string together a comprehensive thought. He opened unseeing eyes, his whole being focused on the head of his penis, and if he concentrated on that part right there it just felt sO gOod-

' _I'm pretty optimistic that we will have a good weekend though, with most places being dry and pleasant. However, just a reminder that the nights will be p-retty darn chilly with chances of frost.'_

"please…" Dan thought, in a moment of lucidity. "oh fuck, please,'

 _'Anyway that's all from me and the rest of the BBC weather team, remember you can check out the hourly forecast on the website .uk/weather. Back to Huw and Fiona in the studio.'_

For a few moments, Dan felt completely helpless as unsustainable feelings of pleasure rippled through his body. He felt like he might almost faint, and then there was an explosive sensation of release and he came. Semen pulsed out, hot and sticky into his own hand, his whole body convulsing as he watched Phil spin the whole way around in his stool and sign off with a wink.

He pressed the mute button on the remote with his elbow. Then he just sat there for a few seconds, limp, his head lolling and his hands covered with come. He felt guilty and strange and disgusting, but he had definitely scratched the itch. He hadn't felt this satisfied in a very long time. It was difficult to ever feel in the mood when your brain was usually preoccupied with staving off an anxiety attack.

Dan leaned over to the coffee table and unrolled a few sheets of toilet paper from the roll he had left there the last time he did this. He cleaned himself off and chucked the tissue into the wastepaper basket. Then he pulled up his boxers and went over to wash his hands off in the kitchen sink. After than he curled up on the sofa, pulling a blanket around himself for comfort.

He flicked from channel to channel until he found an animal documentary. Then he lay down on his side, a hugging a pillow in his arms (he was lonely but he wouldn't pretend it was Phil, no he wouldn't) and he fell asleep to the soft sound of David Attenborough's voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Dan glanced up and down the busy London street one more time, then padded into the Starbucks. He had been waiting outside it for 15 minutes already. If he just went in and got a seat, that would look more normal, surely? Waiting outside was making him feel like a 13-year-old on his first date.

Dan joined the queue, squinting at the menu board. He should get a flat white, it would make him look more business-like, or some sort of Americano to cut down on the calories…

A voice sounded just behind his ear; 'I recommend the caramel macchiato.'

Dan jumped. He was so surprised his feet literally left the ground and he nearly dropped his briefcase.'Oh, P-phil, I didn't see you there!' Phil was there, leaning on his kitten-stickered crutches, wearing a purply t-shirt and a massive grin.

'That's because I snuck up on you,' Phil laughed, his nose crinkling adorably. 'Have you ever experienced the hot cup of deliciousness that is a caramel macchiato, Danny boy?'

'I-er-no, I don't believe I have,' those frothy sugary concoctions were usually out of Dan's price range.

The woman in front of them finished paying and the barista smiled at them.

'Two grande caramel macchiatos, please! To stay. Oh, and make one of them lactose-free.'

Dan went to dig around in his trouser pockets for change, but Phil stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. He looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling.

'It's on me.'

Dan couldn't find the voice to protest.

As they waited for the coffees, Phil chatted away to Dan about how happy he was to be back presenting the weather again. Dan said very little. He felt nervous and agitated to have Phil so close to him. He avoided looking the other man in the eye. The barista called out their order and pushed two steaming white mugs towards them. She looked at Dan, then at Phil and shot Dan a wry smile, like they were in on a joke.

All the blood drained out of Dan's face. She winked at Dan and turned back to the latte steamer. Dan ushered Phil over to a seat near the window, hoping that he hadn't seen the blatant shipping that had just occurred. Phil sat in the rickety chair and Dan took the sofa by the wall.

'Gosh, this window is pretty steamy,' Phil said, reaching up to draw a little smiley face on it with his fingertip.

'Serious condensation issues.' _Oh my god, Dan, why did you say that, what the fuck?_ There was silence for a few seconds. Dan lifted the caramel macchiato up to his mouth and sipped at the foam.

'No! That's not how you do it!' Phil took the mug right out of Dan's hand, picked up a coffee stick from the table and began stirring. He mixed the caramel syrup, milk froth and coffee until everything blended together. He handed the drink back to Dan and then began stirring his own.

Dan lifted the cup up to his mouth and took a sip. It was still hot, so it burned his tongue a little, but it tasted like a cosy hug with a hint of sugary goodness. Dan picked up a spoon and scraped the remaining foam off the top. His taste buds exploded with joy. He had to hold himself back from moaning.

'You like it?' Phil asked, between sips of his own drink.

'Yasssomigod,' Dan replied, scooping up another spoon of foam. 'I think you've ruined my figure and improved my life in one fell swoop.'

'Hey, you'd look great at any weight!' Phil said, then immediately moved on; 'It's sad though, I found out I was lactose intolerant a few months ago and the lactose-free milk just isn't the same…could I have a sip of yours, actually?

'Of course,' Dan said. _You'd look great at any weight._ 'It won't make you sick, will it?' _You'd look great at any weight._ Had Phil really just said that, or was he dreaming?

'No, no, a sip won't kill me.' Phil lifted the mug up to his mouth with both hands. 'Mmmmnnnn…'

'My thoughts exactly,' Dan smiled at the other man. ' _You'd look great at any weight,'_ was bouncing around and around in his brain. He opened his briefcase and pulled out some files.

'Alrighty, I have the police report you sent me, and your statement. I sent in for a court summons a few days ago. Now we have to go through this thing called a conditional fee agreement-'

'Oooh, sounds scary,' Phil said.

'It's not that bad, here, I'll explain it to you, see-' he turned over a sheet of stapled paper and began explaining. 'It's a thing particular to damages cases, where basically you sign that you promise me your solicitor, and your barrister, Mr.-eh- Liguori?'

'Yes, PJ told me that he is definitely in. Er, I'm going to come around your side, actually, because I can't see what's going on…' Phil dug into the front pocket of the galaxy-print bag he had brought with him and pulled out a glasses case. He put on a pair of black plastic frames. 'Serious business!'

Phil scooted around the table and sat in beside Dan, then leaned in to look at the piece of paper Dan was holding. Dan rested his fingers on the table to stop the paper from shaking. Phil was so close now, close enough that Dan knew what he smelled like; a little bit of musk but mostly crisp and sweet like flowery soap and just a hint of…raspberries?

Dan blinked and returned to the task in hand, trying in vain to block out the fact that Phil was near enough to touch, near enough to feel the heat of his skin; 'Well this bit up here is for me, the solicitor, and then what the agreement covers, ie your claim for damages and then down here is what you pay if you win the case, expenses, and also what you pay if you lose-'

Phil nodded as Dan talked though the whole document. Then he took it from Dan to read it for himself. Dan leafed through the case files and made triple-sure everything was in order. There were a few minutes of companionable silence; interrupted only by the slurping of coffee, the turning of pages and the occasional question from Phil.

'What does 'disbursement' mean?'

'The money which I will have to pay to other people to help prepare your case, for you it'll be fees for the medical report, et cetera,' Dan replied.

'Gosh, you are so knowledgeable, Dannio,' Phil said, not looking up from the page. Dan felt warm inside. He gazed at Phil for a few moments, appreciating how cute and, well, sexy he looked in his glasses. Phil Lester in glasses made him want to drink water and do his taxes.

Dan looked back at the case files and kept flicking through them. He was making a mental to-do list of all the things that had to be checked off before they could even step in the courtroom. He would need to sit down with Phil and hash out a proper legal statement; talk to this PJ guy and figure out a game plan; meet with the opposing lawyers…and god knows it could be months before they even saw the inside of a courtroom what with the snail's pace of the English legal system.

He looked down at Phil's leg. 8-10 weeks of healing, Phil had tweeted. Up to two and a half months of his life. And Dan wasn't even sure of the extent of Phil's injuries. Was it a clean break or would it need more operations and years of physio? Would the judge be sympathetic? Would this PJ guy be any good? Would Dan fuck things up, like he always did?

Dan blinked. The pages had become blurry. He wiped his eyes, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. This was the most important case in Dan's legal career so far. Phil Lester was a talented man with a bright future and Dan's actions could seriously impact his life, for better or for worse. This wasn't just parking tickets anymore, this was real life, a hit-and-run, so complicated, witnesses, CCTV, everything...Dan's heart had sped up so fast in the last minute that it now felt like it was knocking against his ribs.

'Dan, are you okay?' Phils face was inches from his and full of concern. Dan could see his own face, distorted and ghostly in the reflection on Phil's glasses.

'I-I don't kn-know if I can do this-I, er-'

'What are you talking about? You're Dan Howell, ace attorney!'

'No, really I-' Dan looked away and swallowed. Panic was building in his chest. What had he gotten himself in for? Why did he even get out of bed these days?

'You've gone pale, are you alright?' There was a note of worry in the last word that made Dan panic even more,

Dan tried to speak, but only a few choked consonants came out. He was sweating and his hands were shaking. He breathed in a wheezy breath.

'Oh gosh, you're having an attack, aren't you?'

Dan nodded. He didn't know what else to do.

'That's okay. Here, you're safe with me. One of my flatmates in uni used to have these all the time. You just sit there and try to catch your breath for a few moments.'

Dan's eyes darted around. The coffee shop was suddenly loud and oppressive, all the noises bearing in on him at once. Phil placed a hand on his back and rubbed a comforting circle with his fingers.

'Do you want to leave, Dan? Is it too much for you here?'

Dan nodded again and pulled his arms around himself. Phil was speaking to him in a perfectly normal, calm tone. This was strange to Dan. When he panicked around family or friends they would either get extremely flustered or just annoyed at him. Phil was acting like nothing was wrong.

'Okay, how about we head over to my flat for a bit? It's just around the corner and I have plenty of chocolate and stuff, is that okay for you?'

Dan nodded again. His mind was mostly blank now, overtaken by the white empty noise of anxiety, everything and nothing at the same time. He barely understood what Phil was saying.

Phil tidied up all the paperwork, placed it in Dan's briefcase, then handed it to him. Dan held it to his chest, trying not to vomit. Phil grabbed his bag and his crutches, then ushered Dan out of the Starbucks. Dan was unable to look at him, he simply fixed his gaze on his shoes and tried to block out the unbearable noise and warmth and endless flow of people of the London street in May.

Then Phil hailed a taxi and they tumbled inside, and Dan's world became immediately a lot smaller and more manageable.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan kept his head between his knees for most of the taxi journey, his eyes squeezed shut. Phil kept a hand on his back, rubbing up and down, trying to comfort him. It wasn't working. Phil's touch made Dan even more anxious.

When they reached their destination, Dan attempted to sit up and reach a shaking hand into his wallet, but Phil stopped him. Dan followed Phil across the road, his knees weak and his head spinning. Phil pulled out his keys, balancing on his crutches. He opened the door and they walked up a flight of grey-carpeted stairs. This took a considerable amount of time, considering Phil's crutches and the fact that Dan couldn't really breathe.

All the while, Phil would say short sentences of encouragement to him in a soft voice, like; 'You'll be okay,' and 'We're nearly there, now.' Part of Dan longed for Phil to pull him into his arms and just hold him until he felt better, and another part just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and never see Phil, or anyone else, ever again.

They came to another door, then even more stairs. Phil made joked that this was 'literally the worst flat for someone who finds it hard enough not to trip over his own feet' and Dan laughed, weakly. Phil directed him ahead, down a grey hallway and into a spacious lounge. It had a purple suede sofa and a large crystal chandelier. Dan avoided looking at the chandelier, suddenly pierced by the fear that it might fall on him.

'Sit down there and relax for a few minutes. Can I get you a drink? Water, orange juice, tea, coffee? I have hot chocolate as well, I mean, I know its May, but-'

'H-hot chocolate sounds lovely,' Dan stuttered, a considerable amount of effort going into just forming the words.

'Hot chocolate, coming up!'

Phil loped off, out of the lounge and towards the kitchen. Dan was left alone. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, chesty breaths for a minute. Little by little, the tension began to leave his shoulders and back. His breathing evened out. Dan felt very tired now, like he had just done some strenuous physical exercise. He opened his eyes and settled back into a crease in the sofa.

Dan looked around the room. There were plants in every corner of the room; some ferns, some tropical ones, a few bonsai trees on the windowsill. They all seemed impeccably healthy. The television was in a corner beside the fireplace. It had a PlayStation, Xbox and Wii nestled underneath it in a tangle of cables. There was a large shelving unit in the corner of the room, full of DVDs, games and boxsets.

Dan felt an urge to go over and turn on one of the consoles. He had to sell all his consoles last year when he got behind on rent. He really missed being able to pick up a controller and just forget everything for a few hours. He walked over and began leafing through the shelf of games. They weren't in alphabetical order, which made him a little uncomfortable, but all his favourites were there; Skyrim, Mario Kart, Donkey Kong, Zelda, Portal, Halo… Dan felt literal tears rise prick at his eyes. Oh god, what he wouldn't do to just stay here forever, cuddled up with Phil, gaming…pangs of longing started up in his chest, whether it was for Phil or the games he didn't know.

'Dan! Hot chocolate's ready!' Phil shouted from the kitchen. 'I would bring it into you, but I would drop it everywhere!'

'C-coming!' Dan stuttered, hurriedly re-shelving the videogames so that they looked like they hadn't been touched. He made his way down the hallway into the kitchen.

Phil was turned away from him, facing the microwave. All the cupboards were wide open, something that made Dan feel instantly uncomfortable. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers, fighting the urge to close them all. Phil turned to Dan, and gestured at a steaming Mickey Mouse mug on the countertop.

'You're meant to heat it on the stove, but I did it on the microwave 'cause I'm lazy. It's just Cadbury's powder, nothing fancy,' Phil said. The microwave beeped and he pulled out a giftshop mug from Universal Studios.

'Th-that's perfect, thank you,' Dan said, picking up his hot chocolate. They both stood there in silence for a few moments, sipping.

'So-er-are you feeling better?' Phil asked.

'Yeah, I've calmed down…Listen Phil, I'm really really sorry about what happened. I've never had one in public before-I- thank you so much. I'll just finish this hot chocolate and head home and I'll be out of your hair-'

Phil scoffed. 'Ab-soloutely not, and don't worry about it, I've had a lot of practice with this kind of thing. Now,' he balanced on his crutches, looking Dan up and down. 'I don't mean to be mean, but you look really shook up, Dan.'

'No, I'm fine, really…' Dan ran shaky fingers through his fringe and avoided the other man's gaze. Dan didn't feel fine. He felt exhausted and ashamed and confused and lovesick and basically as if he could start panicking again at any second.

'I wouldn't feel right sending you out. You're almost as pale as I am.'

Dan just took another sip in silence, considering. 'Well, I'll stay for half an hour, I guess. Just till I'm feeling better…'

'Yay!' Phil said, beaming. He knocked back the rest of his drink. There was an awkward silence. They both stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

'Er- nice game collection you have, um, by the way,' Dan said.

'Oh, thank you! That's where all my BBC salary goes,' Phil laughed, then put on a serious face, and dropped his voice two octaves. 'Would you like to play a game?'

Dan blinked. 'Isn't it "I want to play a game?"'

'Yeah, but I didn't want to be _too_ creepy- you might not have seen Saw...'

'I'd love to play, actually.'

Phil crutched his way into the lounge and they picked out a game to play. Dan selected Mario Kart, because it was the only one he was certain he wouldn't mess up. Phil crouched on the floor to put the disk into the Wii. His failure of a belt meant that the neon Sonic boxers he was wearing were very visible. Dan averted his gaze and crossed his legs, willing his face not to go red. Phil sat up next to him as the loading screen flashed up.

'I'll have to warn you, I'm pretty good at this game.' Dan said. 'I've beat Japanese people online and everything.'

'What? That's no fair!' Phil protested, as he selected Tanooki Mario as his avatar. 'Okay, well you're going to have to have a handicap of some kind.'

Dan selected Waluigi. 'Awh, you're not serious…' he said, distracted as Phil leaned in and took his controller. Phil scrolled through the car options and selected one.

'What? You get the fastest car with the fastest wheels and I get a cat car with cushion wheels? Oh god… might as well compliment it with a parasol.'

'Which one do you want to play?' Phil asked, scrolling through the racetracks.'

'How about we ease ourselves in with Sweet, Sweet Canyon?'

'This one makes me so hungry,' Phil said, as it flashed up on screen.

'Wow, a caramel waterfall, I wanna expose my nipples to that-' Dan joked, then immediately regretted. _Why did he always have to say the weirdest things?_

'I wanna eat everything,' Phil said, not mentioning the massive faux pas Dan had just made.

They proceeded to play, mostly in silence but with the occasional witty/weird quip from Phil. Dan wasn't on top form. It was difficult to resist the temptation to sneak glances at the other man, and even a momentary glimpse could throw him off. Even so, he managed first place in their first two games.

For their third one Phil chose the animal crossing track. It had a Christmassy theme and was full of snow and log cabins. This was one of Dan's old favourites, he had played it many times and knew every twist and turn like the back of his hand.

'All or nothing!' Phil said, turning to him as the loading screen came up. Dan started to complain, but the sight of Phil's puppy dog eyes silenced him immediately.

The game started and Dan slid easily into first and was well ahead all the way until the final lap. Dan yawned as he turned a corner. He had this in the bag.

'Don't you yawn, I am right up your bum,' Phil said. This remark startled Dan. He looked over at Phil's screen and realised that he had gained quite a bit of ground.

'Aaaah noooo-' disaster struck as Dan ploughed into a snowman. He tried to get back on track but he was hit by squid ink from Phil and a red shell from a CPU in quick succession. Dan tried in vain to regain ground but it was too late. Phil was already way ahead of him. He let out a groan as Phil crossed the finish line and whooped triumphantly.

Phil's celebrations were interrupted by his phone ringing. The ringtone was the cutesy, jaunty 'Temmie Village' theme from Undertale. Dan made a mental note to ask Phil about his favourite games later. Phil dug around in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out an iPhone with a fuschia cover.

'Hello?' he answered, smiling. 'Oh, sugar! I am so sorry-' Phil looked at his watch. 'I'll get a taxi right now, sorry,' he looked over at Dan, 'I lost track of time.'

Dan leapt to his feet, dropping his Wii controller, words falling out of his mouth. 'Oh god Phil I've made you late for work I am so sorry I'll leave right now I-' and then all of a sudden he was dizzy and the ground was rushing towards him and everything went black.


End file.
